


i'd give everything that i got for your love

by obsessedmak



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, stan is in it for like 5 seconds, there was supposed to be conflict but i'm lazy af and we need more chill zouis fics, this is mostly just light plotless pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessedmak/pseuds/obsessedmak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis loves to take and Zayn loves to give. They breathe each other until there’s nothing left.</p><p>Or the AU where Zayn is a uni student with an empty flat, Louis is a songwriter that stumbles into his life, and this is them told in moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'd give everything that i got for your love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [underthesamesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthesamesky/gifts).



> Thanks so so so much to everyone that heard me whine about this fic: Coleen, Lisa, Rej, Erika etc etc. Love you guys thaaanks. ♥ Title's from Ready to Run of course.

**×**

Zayn meets Louis a handful of times before he actually _meets_ Louis.

Well, he hears him the first time. It’s hard not to hear his voice- thin, melodic, almost cracking but in a good way- carried up, up, and up to his tiny balcony by the wind. He’d be angrier about someone interrupting his smoke break but the guy’s voice isn’t that bad. The guy’s easy on the eyes to so there’s that.

Louis is sat on the curb of the street bellow furiously writing into a notebook and singing loudly.

Zayn thinks maybe it’s another drunken student hanging around which isn’t rare in this building full of university students and grad kids.

He realizes the person he hears is composing because he keeps changing the lyrics. That and he lets out a frustrated huff after every lyric change.

The voice in the winds sings, ‘Even when the night changes, it will never change me and you.’ and Zayn doesn’t stop himself from yelling, “Keep that line!” from the second floor.

Louis’s head whips up and he squints at the darkness, barely making out Zayn’s face.

“Keep that line,” Zayn repeats. “It’s sweet.”

“Thanks, mate!” Louis calls back.

Zayn smiles and smokes one more before going back in.

Louis’s voice lulls him to sleep.

 

**×**

Zayn sees _him_ more often on that corner of the street.

Sometimes he’s giggling into his phone or laughing at a wall, clearly drunk out of his mind.

Sometimes he’s smoking or writing or yelling another song at the top of his lungs.

Zayn wants to call out to him again but he settles for watching him skateboard around the corner.

Zayn’s not one for yells and booming voices but he can make an exception for pixie boys with wispy hair.

If he sits on his cold balcony more often to smoke and sketch skater boys with tattooed arms, it’s his business.

 

×

He’s smoking on the sidewalk for once because his mum is coming over soon and his flat needs to smell less like a burning house.

Zayn doesn’t realize someone’s staring at him until that someone pokes him in the cheek.

“Jesus! You’re real.”

Zayn turns to roll his eyes at the source only to find blue eyes and tan skin.

“Hello, I’m Zayn,” he says as he exhales a puff of smoke.

“Louis,” the object of Zayn’s recent attempts at art replies. “Are you sure I’m not hallucinating?”

Zayn chuckles. “How high are you?”

“Higher than a motherfucker,” Louis sings before giggling.

“Where are your friends?” Zayn asks.

Louis makes a vague hand motion. “They’re loud.”

Zayn chuckles because Louis completely dodges the question.

Zayn almost asks Louis if he wants to come over but a loud voice yells from a window of the building.

“Louis, you idiot, get back up here!”

Louis sighs. “Nice meeting you, Zayn. Say hi to the other demi-gods for me,” Louis says with a wink.

Zayn watches him stumble into the building and up the stairs. ‘ _His name is Louis,’_ he thinks _._

He doesn’t feel cold anymore.

 

×

Louis is involved in a very serious game of hide-and-seek when he bumps into Zayn again. He knows it’s not normal for twenty-three-year olds to play ‘children’s games’ but he can do whatever he wants, thank you very much.

He makes it down a floor below the flat he shares with Stan before he trips over a roll of newspaper and straight into Zayn.

“Shit, mate I am so sorry,” he says, wincing when he sees the drink in Zayn’s hand dripping over Zayn’s white shirt.

Zayn frowns bit and sighs as he takes his key and opens the door to his flat. “Louis, right?”

Louis’s head snaps up and _then_ he realizes he’s gone and spilled fruit juice over that ridiculously fit guy he hit on when he was high.

“I am so so sorry, mate,” Louis says. He hears Stan’s shouts of “come out come out wherever you are, Loubear!” from the stairs and blushes when Zayn looks at him pointedly.

“We were playing hide-and-seek,” Louis mutters quickly.

Zayn chuckles and steps through the door of his flat. He whips the wet shirt over his head frowning at the stain.

Louis tries not to stare at Zayn’s torso but he’s only human.

“Come on in then,” Zayn says, smiling a little too knowingly.

“What?” Louis replies.

“Come in,” Zayn repeats. “You can hide in here.”

Louis fish-mouths for a few seconds but steps in anyway.

If this is what being lost is like, he never wants to be found.

 

×

Zayn knows Louis’s a keeper when he stops staring at Zayn and starts staring at the graffiti wall instead.

“Mate, this is so sick!” Louis says, rushing to touch the wall full of curves and paint.

He sees the big ‘zap!’ on the wall and he whines.

Zayn chuckles and taps Louis on the shoulder.

“Zayn, who the hell are you?” Louis asks, poking Zayn in the chest.

“I don’t know. I reckon I’m the kid from the All-New Ghost Rider comics,” he whispers.

“Take me now,” Louis blurts out.

Zayn laughs so hard he sees stars.

 

×

Stan finds Louis five hours later.

Well, he finds Louis shoes on the sidewalk and hears Louis’s loud protesting.

Louis’s busy doing skateboard tricks over Zayn’s body.

Louis’s never met someone who’d lay down his life (okay, his body) on the pavement for Louis to play with. (Let him dream.)

So far they’ve spent the past hour talking about the Marvel franchise, tattoos, and the wildest skateboard trick they’ve ever done.

It’s like being eleven again and Louis is buzzing.

Stan has to drag Louis off because ‘your mum threatened to behead me if you didn’t pick up you fucking phone’ and Zayn watches him go.

Louis blows him kisses because he can.

 

×

Louis writes songs for a living and Zayn tells him he knows.

“You know?!” Louis gaps. “Stalker!”

Zayn rolls his eyes, already growing used to Louis’s racket.

“Heard you once. Helped you settle on a line even,” Zayn says, watching Louis’s cheeks color.

“Night Changes,” Louis mumbles. “That was you.”

Louis’s used to disbelief or shock. Hell, he’s shocked himself. He always thought he’d be an actor or performer but somewhere along the way he realized he was good with writing the songs and finding the right artists to sing them.

“You know now I’m expecting you to send me every song you’ve ever written,” Zayn says. “All the demos, bro.”

Louis shakes his head but doesn’t say no.

 

×

Zayn wakes up to someone knocking loudly on his door.

It’s Louis, bright as ever.

“It’s too early,” Zayn says, like the sun didn’t just appear on his doorstep to wake him up.

“But we’re going on an adventure!” Louis says, tugging at his backpack straps to make a point.

“I told you yesterday. I’m not the adventure type,” Zayn says, because his small world’s always been big enough for him.

“That’s why I brought the adventure to you,” Louis says, unzipping his backpack to reveal superhero DVDs, bags of chips, and a bottle of tequila.

“That is an awful line, Louis,” Zayn says even as he feels himself smiling. Louis shrugs and skips into Zayn’s flat anyway.

Zayn’s small world expands to make room for a Louis-shaped space.

His heart does too.

 

×

“Songwriting is the same thing as writing literature, Zayn!” Louis says, his mouth full of the Chinese takeout they ordered for dinner.

Zayn just stares at him blankly from the other end of the couch.

“You know how it is,” Louis says. “Words and all.”

“Sure,” Zayn replies with a mocking smirk. “Your eloquence is astounding.”

“Fuck off,” Louis mumbles.

“Awww, bro,” Zayn says, poking Louis cheeks. “Come on. You know I love your cheesy songs about morning boners.”

“That was one time!” Louis protests exasperatedly.

“No contro-o-o-ol,” Zayn sings and Louis feels like he’s slipping.

He thinks of new lyrics like ‘ _there’s a devil in your smile that’s chasing me’_ and _‘there's a lightning in your eyes, I can't deny’_ and he hopes Zayn doesn’t realize that the next song Louis writes will be about him.

 

×

Zayn knows he’s attractive. Hell, he knows he’s more than your usual good-looking lad. It’s part of the reason his house is full of reflective surfaces.

His sisters tease him for being vain but beauty is part of Zayn as much as intelligence, eloquence, and compassion are.

He also knows he’s far from perfect but when he looks in the mirror he likes whom he sees.

For all the works he’s ever painted, for every poem ever read, for every mirror he’s passed, none of these things have reflected, hell, _magnified,_ Zayn’s beauty like Louis has.

 

×

They’re walking home from a party when Louis hears Zayn _really_ sing.

Louis knows Zayn’s voice is wonderful. He’s heard him reciting poetry and making speeches about sentence structures and what not.

He’s heard him singing softly and rapping along to Drake albums.

It’s just. It’s the first time he hears Zayn singing like it’s everything he is.

Maybe Louis’s biased, because hearing Zayn singing words he wrote is angelic and overwhelming.

 _‘Where do broken hearts go?’_ Zayn sings loudly into the night.

Louis hopes he never finds out.

 

×

“One thing you can’t live without,” Louis says.

Zayn’s lost count of how many times Louis’s come over to his flat. They’ve definitely watched every good (and bad) superhero movie ever made.

“You,” Zayn says without thinking.

Louis sits up abruptly. “You- I- What?”

“You,” Zayn says with a shrug. Zayn knows they’ve known each other for about three months but he feels like a moth drawn to a flame and his wings are already singed.

Louis gapes at Zayn for a few seconds longer before launching himself at Zayn and hugging him so tight.

Zayn’s getting used to being breathless around Louis.

 

 

×

There are days when Zayn needs time on his own. His family likes to call it his ‘ghost mode’.

He doesn’t answer texts or calls. He wanders around aimlessly and sits in solitary corners in parks. He sits in silence and thinks and breathes and just _rests_.

He smokes on sidewalks and finds peace in cloudy skies and the storm rumbling in his chest.

Zayn walks back to his flat, feeling inspired. Maybe he can finish the tattoo sleeve sketch he’s been working on for ages.

When he gets there, he finds his doorstep littered with paper airplanes and a huge note stuck to his door.

_‘Call me when you’re done brooding. I miss you already, you twat.’ – Louis_

Zayn feels the storm in his chest sparking with lightning and rumbling with something else he won’t name.

He imagines Louis sitting on his doorstep, ripping his newspaper to shreds to make crappy paper planes.

He calls Louis the moment he steps into his flat.

“Louis, you fucking idiot,” Zayn says into his mobile.

Louis’s laughter sounds like the first rain shower of the year.

 

×

Zayn wakes up beside Louis one morning.

“Wake up, Zaynie,” Louis says in a soft voice. “You’re going to be late for class.”

Zayn whines because it’s too early to process what’s happening.

The last thing Zayn remembers is watching Skins on his laptop and Louis making heart-eyes at Maxxie. They must’ve fallen asleep.

“Zayn, just because I’m a lazy slob, doesn’t mean you can be one too,” Louis singsongs, gently pushing Zayn out of bed.

Zayn grumbles but gets up anyway. He thinks Louis looks beautiful, sleepy and rumpled in his sheets.

“Will you be here when I get back?” Zayn asks.

Louis nods as he settles back into Zayn’s bed.

The storm in Zayn’s chest becomes a hurricane.

 

×

Looking back, Zayn should’ve known he’d fall.

He never learned how to drive. He hated flying and couldn’t swim.

Zayn could stay on solid ground and explore the world in books and colors.

Then there was Louis with whole universes behind his eyes.

He wants to spend eternity mapping him out by tracing his skin.

 

×

Louis had his fair share of crushes but his crush on Zayn really takes it out of the park.

He’s had fit friends and fit boyfriends before. He can handle himself around attractive, intelligent, lovely people.

But he hasn’t met anyone so beautiful in every way.

Zayn is moonlight personified and all the art in the world couldn’t compare to his dorky laugh when he watches old reruns of Power Rangers.

He doesn’t try to stop himself when he pokes Zayn’s cheek like the first time they met.

Zayn smiles at him, clearly remembering the moment.

Louis kisses him right there and then.

 

×

Louis’s been writhing under Zayn for almost an hour now.

Zayn keeps their kissing slow and his tongue teasing.

“Please,” Louis begs, looking up at Zayn with wide eyes and puffy lips.

Zayn feels like there should be a chorus of angels or a big bang going off somewhere.

Louis mouths at Zayn’s neck and he feels like quitting smoking because Louis is his new nicotine.

 

×

Louis supposes their first time should be big and romantic and sweet. Louis thinks they’re the type.

The reality is Zayn and Louis are horny twenty-somethings with dirty mouths and the tendency to laugh between thrusts.

It’s perfect anyway.

 

×

“I wrote you a song,” Louis says after, because it’s easier than asking Zayn to be his boyfriend.

“Sing it to me,” Zayn replies, tracing the tattoos on Louis’s arm. The sheets are warm, warm, warm but the inside of his chest feels warmer.

“And yes, I’ll be your boyfriend,” Zayn adds, casually. Louis gasps. Zayn thinks he’s adorable.

“What? I didn’t. I mean not that I don’t want. But,” Louis stutters.

Zayn rolls his eyes and shuts Louis up with a kiss.

“Ask me properly then sing me my song, Lou,” Zayn says. Louis sees stars in his eyes.

“Be my boyfriend, Zayn,” Louis says softly, like he’s so much younger and asking a boy out for the first time.

The hurricane is Zayn’s chest becomes clear blue skies and a burning sun.

“Okay.”


End file.
